Halloween 1997
by JalendaviLady
Summary: Halloween during Deathly Hallows from several viewpoints. Contains spoilers for the Part 2 movie.


Halloween 1997

By JalendaviLady

Timeline: Deathly Hallows

Summary: Halloween during _Deathly Hallows_ from several viewpoints

Characters: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Horace Slughorn, Eileen Snape, Severus Snape, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley

Warning: _Deathly Hallows_ spoilers, including things that will be revealed in the _Part 2_ movie.

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><p>Disclaimer: I do not own <em>Harry Potter<em>.

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><p><strong>Hermione Granger<strong>

She's not going to tell him.

She feels guilty about it, of course, particularly since she was the one who got to raid a Muggle grocery store under the Invisibility Cloak yesterday.

But she thinks it will be too much.

Ron's not been gone all that long, and the thought still makes her feel like weeping.

The lean months of winter are ahead of them, and there's no telling what food they'll be able to find once the fields are frosted over and the Muggles keep the store doors closed for the warmth.

What little Polyjuice Potion they have left is far too precious to use for food. They don't know how long it has to last.

And they don't know how much longer they'll be alone like this, just two mostly-trained magic-users clinging to a hope that someday they'll have figured things out, outsmarted the most dangerous dark wizard of the age on their own, and be able to go home.

_Home._

Except, he still won't have one. He's got a house, but it's not a home yet. He's abandoned the place he grew up. Molly'd take him in a heartbeat, but that's not _his_ home.

And today was the start of all that not-having-a-home.

It's Halloween today. The Muggles were talking about it yesterday as she passed the checkout and slipped money into an open drawer.

The sun's already rising. She should have woken him an hour ago.

But she remembered all the years before, all the craziness - the troll, the goblet, _everything_ - and decided something.

This Halloween, they're going to take it easy and not take risks. It's going to be a calm day.

And for once since he learned he was a wizard, Harry Potter was going to have a Halloween where he was not reminded the world was still out to get him, nor that he was an orphan because of this day.

Even if he lived the rest of his life being reminded every year, he'd have today. And if sleeping in was part of that, then sleeping in would be part of that.

Hermione smiled grimly at the door of their tent.

And hopefully next year, they'd be gushing about his second defeat of Voldemort, and shut up and give him some emotional breathing space about the other!

* * *

><p><strong>Horace Slughorn<strong>

Professor Slughorn spends his-thankfully class-free-morning staring out of the underwater window of the Slytherin common room, watching the fish.

He won't tell anyone why, of course.

He reminds every child, no matter who-with a few Death Eater connected exceptions, of course-that the Headmaster is in no mood for tricks _of any kind_ today.

They're Slytherins. He shouldn't have to warn them.

But there's an anti-Dark Lord whisper going through the House that he marvels Snape seems to have missed entirely for years.

They're Slytherins. He _knows_ none of them have been involved in the ineffectual 'Dumbledore's Army' malarkey that's causing so much unnecessary pain to his students from other Houses.

He sees it in their eyes, though.

In Zabini's, in Nott's, even this morning in Miss Parkinson's. And in so many others, down to a number of first-years.

The children of other Houses want freedom.

The children of Slytherin appear to want _revenge_. For boyfriends, older brothers, uncles, fathers, grandfathers...

And he's beginning to believe some of them would do some daringly stupid things if they thought they had a proper opening for success.

For the first time in his life, Horace Slughorn feels that he has to warn Slytherins not to act like Gryffindors.

And he fears that one day the warning will not hold.

* * *

><p><strong>Ginny Weasley<strong>

It's a brilliant day.

In years past, since before she entered school, it often wasn't.

This is the day things happen. Always. Once the red and gold oak leaves are arranged and pumpkins set up as centerpieces in the Great Hall, things start happening.

Even if it is a celebration of their world, wizards and witches know that there isn't anything out of the ordinary about it, really, other than the celebrations, feasts, and the fact it's a little easier to pass among Muggles today.

But it's a bright day, and the DA all know better than to try anything.

And that's the most jarring thing to Ginny of all this year. It's a quiet Halloween at Hogwarts, and only the professors remember when such has ever happened before.

As if something more than just Harry is gone from the castle...

* * *

><p><strong>Eileen Prince Snape<strong>

There's a knock at the door.

She opens it and leaps backwards at the sight of the werewolf on the other side of the threshold. Her tall pointed hat nearly falls off.

"Trick Or Treat!"

"My, what a scary costume!" And it is. He's even painted his face to match his light brown hair, which is so far past combed she doesn't want to think too hard about the labor his mother has ahead of her tonight.

She hands him a small bag of candy corn.

"Thanks, Ms. Prinz!"

"Now, don't eat it all at once!" she calls as he scampers back over her front walk, play-howling.

Before she can shut the door, Pattie from two houses down the lane comes through the gate.

"Nice witch costume," the seven-year-old tells her.

She smiles. "I could say the same for you."

The little girl reaches up to the brim of her hat. "Yours is better. Mum had to put wire in to keep the tip up," she admits quietly. "How does yours stay up?"

"Magic," she whispers conspiratorially. "How else would you expect?"

Pattie giggles.

The candy corn plops into the plastic cauldron she's carrying.

Then, "Ms. Prinz?"

"Yes, Pattie?"

"Do you... do you think magic could be real?"

"Why do you ask?"

"All the news reports, and a few days ago... well, Mum said it couldn't have been my fault Mr. Wilson's favorite trophy fell over in school while I was mad at him..."

Her blood chilled.

"Pattie, don't tell that story to anyone else."

"Ms. Prinz?"

"Just don't. You'll understand later, I promise."

Pattie glanced up, clearly at her hat, eyes widening.

She held a finger to her lips. "Shh."

Pattie ran back down the walk.

She closed the door and sat down, breathing heavily.

A Muggleborn on the lane.

_This, of all years for a child to start..._

Eileen Prince Snape sighed. "Did it have to be Halloween?" she muttered.

* * *

><p><strong>Severus Snape<strong>

He wants the damn day over.

Personally, he'd have preferred it be wiped from the calendar completely. The universe is, however, not that kind, and especially not to him.

At least none of the students have tried anything yet, and the professors have settled on sullen staring and silence as a means to deal with him. Except of course for the Carrows, who he has as little to do with as he can get away with as things normally are anyway.

(He never did like them, anyhow, even... even _before_.)

The entire wizarding world seems to know now.

It was bad enough at breakfast that he just holed himself up in the Headmaster's personal rooms all day, but nothing short of dragonpox would be enough to justify his absence at the Halloween Feast.

And so he left his rooms and came to the Great Hall and gave what was most likely the shortest Halloween Speech in Hogwarts history, all "this is the day we celebrate magic and our magical heritage blah blah blah".

With quite nearly the entirety of the staff and three full Houses, plus more Slytherins than he wanted to think about - even Draco and Pansy, for heaven's sake! - staring at him with vague malice.

They mostly ate in silence, with the occasional hushed conversation taking place among the students.

It was uneventful, one of the few minor blessings of the day. No trolls, no werewolves, no basilisks, no nothing. Just food, silence, and public shaming.

The feast winds down. The students return to the dormitories. The staff file out, for their own celebration.

He knew that the headmaster traditionally went, knew Dumbledore had always made himself the life of the party, as had Dippet before him.

He does not even approach the staff room. He knows he isn't invited.

He very nearly goes straight to bed when he gets to his rooms, willing the day to be over even if the clock on the wall and the watch in his pocket say it hasn't ended yet.

The only comfort he has as he tries to fall asleep is that no matter who wins the final battle - whenever it happens - it's very unlikely he'll survive for long afterwards.

That's his comfort: that this may be the only Halloween he may ever face where the world knows what he did on accident so long ago-though the guilt is as bad as if he had planned it, knowing all he knows now-and it's already over.

It's a relief when he, still half-aware, hears a distant bell in Hogsmeade toll out midnight.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry Potter<strong>

Harry counts out the bell peals coming from the church in the Muggle village a mile away.

He doesn't really need to, he's been glancing at Fabian's old watch for the last four hours, slowly watching the minutes tick by.

It's midnight. Halloween's over.

The first away from Hogwarts or Privet Drive since the night he was left on the Dursley's front doorstep.

His first this close to being alone.

He hears Hermione roll over in her sleep behind him, curled up in her bunk. They'd taken to passing around what was _supposed_ to have been Ron's share of the winter blankets, it had gotten so cold these nights.

_They've been gone 16 years, now._

The thought catches him by surprise, with how simple everything is stated that way.

None of the complications of what happened, none of the weight the Wizarding world puts on who did it, just the simple truth.

That's how long he's not had a real family. Not relatives who barely tolerated him, not people who were willing to take on the role as necessary.

Molly was the closest thing he had to a mother.

Hermione was the closest thing to the siblings he might have eventually had.

And his father figures kept dying. Or, in Arthur Weasley's case, very nearly being killed.

He tries to calm down, tries to think his way away from dwelling on such things.

_There will be time for all that when Voldemort is gone,_ he tells himself.

Hermione stirs again, sits up, and walks over.

"It's only a bit past midnight," he tells her as another late autumn breeze makes them both shiver. "You've still got over an hour of sleep before your watch."

"No, I'm already awake. You go get some rest."

"Hermione, you let me sleep in for _hours_ this morning. If anything, I should be taking a longer watch."

"Exactly. You've obviously not been getting enough sleep, so..."

"Hermione, I know what day it is." He sighed. "Or was."

She was silent.

"And I don't need pity. I've gotten more than enough from everyone else."

An eagle-owl hooted in the woods.

Hermione reached for her bag. "Well, since we're both awake... I'd been meaning to save these, but I think we need some of it now." She Summoned a plastic bag out of the bag's hidden depths.

"Hermione, you brought candy with you?"

"The last store I went through already had it discounted, so it's not so bad and I put extra in the register for it." She blushed. "And I've got another two bags stuck back, now. It's chocolate, all of it, so if we need any for medicinal purposes we've got it. Why I didn't pack any to start with, given Professor Lupin's lectures, I don't know..."

They each grabbed one side of the bag and ripped.

"I suppose I should be glad my parents' don't know I'm about to eat a half pound of..." She trailed off. "Harry, I..."

"It's fine." He laughed. "I think you'll have more to worry about when they find out neither of us bothered scheduling dental cleanings."

She giggled. "There's a spell for that. Not that..."

"...not that they trust it."

And for the next golden hours until the bag ran empty, it was as if they were two teenagers camping, with nothing in the world to care about worse than parental displeasure at unbrushed teeth.

* * *

><p><strong>Molly Weasley<strong>

The first thing Molly does in the wee hours of All Saint's Day morning is glance at her clock.

Ron's hand is still where it moved a few weeks ago, to Traveling.

It's no longer on Mortal Danger. It hasn't moved back to Mortal Danger.

_And it would have moved if any of them was in trouble,_ she thought. _Harry's safe, at least._

Arthur comes down the stairs and makes the same glance towards the clock.

"Thank heaven for small favors," he whispers.

Ginny's hand is firmly on School, away from danger. Everyone else's is away from danger as well.

The house seems so empty.

"We still have a half of that pie left from last night."

He looks over his shoulder. "Pumpkin pie for breakfast?"

"Well, who else is going to finish it, the garden gnomes?"

He looks insulted. "Consign my wife's cooking to the garden gnomes? Never!"

They smile together, and head for the kitchen.

These days, 'everyone safe' is worth celebrating.


End file.
